A House Is Not a Home
by some1lostme
Summary: Tony has moved and things have changed. Tiva. Angsty at first, but it will get better. Chapter 4 is here and the story is complete. Enjoy.
1. A House

**Title:** A House Is Not a Home

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Tony has moved and things have changed. Tiva.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of NCIS. But if you want to, I would like some for Christmas.

**Spoilers:** Anything from season 7 so far (up to "Endgame")

**Chapter 1: A House**

The first time she shows up at his house it is later in the evening and she is clutching a manila folder to her chest, her car keys dangling off of one finger. She was surprised when Gibbs had asked her to drop the file at Tony's on her way home, protesting that his apartment is not on her way, only to have Gibbs write an address on the folder. It is in Bethesda, not five minutes from her new apartment.

When she pulls up behind his car and glances up at the moderate, craftsman-style house she is taken slightly aback. Tony had moved in the few months that she had been away and she suddenly wondered what else had changed while she'd been gone.

She finds herself standing on his front porch, admiring the furniture he had tucked into one corner under a large picture window. She knocks, waiting a long moment before she hears footsteps approaching the door.

"Ziva?" he says, taking in her appearance, "What are you doing here?"

He has removed his suit jacket and un-tucked his shirt. He is not wearing any shoes, just a pair of black socks.

She does not offer the file to him as she says, "You moved."

"Yeah, right after – right after we got back from Tel Aviv," he tells her, ignoring the fact that she chose to avoid his question.

She is looking past him, trying to get a better view of the house, and he sighs.

"Come on in," he says casually, stepping back to make room for her.

She steps through the front door and is not really surprised at the decor in his home. The living room walls are painted a cool, light grey, just a couple of shades beyond white, and the room is large and open. His furniture is modern, square and leather with steel accents and she thinks that if his personality were to be described in furniture, these pieces would work perfectly. Practical, cool, striking, and uncommonly comfortable.

"It is beautiful, Tony," she says, taking in the fireplace opposite the couch and the large, flat-screen television mounted above it.

"Thanks," he says quietly, "Do you wanna see the rest of it?"

She nods mutely, allowing him to walk her through the living room into the open kitchen. She glimpses a door that she assumes leads to a backyard but she does not ask about the yard as she follows him into a spacious dining room. The room is accented by golden walls and rich furniture and she is fairly certain that no one has eaten a meal at the dining table since he moved in. One end of it is cluttered with files and paperwork and his laptop is open at the opposite end.

"No point eating in here when it's just me," he tells her without being asked.

She nods again as he leads her back into the entry way and up the stairs. They reach the second floor and he points out a bathroom at the top of the stairs before turning into the first bedroom. It is a blank canvas. White walls, hardwood floors, no furniture. There are a few boxes stacked in one corner and a question bubbles up from within her before she can stop herself.

"What are you going to do with this room?" she asks.

He shrugs, not meeting her eyes, "I haven't decided yet. When I bought this place, I think a part of me was thinking that maybe, someday, there could be another person living in this room."

_A child, _she thinks, not saying the words for fear of a conversation neither of them is really ready to have.

She follows him out of this room and into another, larger room. There is a desk in this room, and a couch and a smaller television. He is using this room as an office, even though he often finds himself at the dining room table.

She smiles. His home is large enough for a family of four and her heart suddenly aches for this. Thoughts are running through her head a mile a minute and she has to bite her tongue to keep from letting them all come rushing out.

He moves on from the office, opening the door to his room with little flourish, joking that it is the room where "all the magic happens" but the smile on his face does not reach his eyes. The walls in his bedroom are stark white, all of them but one, which is painted a dusty blue color. She likes this room, very much, but she cannot admit that to Tony. The bed in his room is large, taking up more than half of the space with its grand headboard. She wants to go over to it, to run her hands over the bedding, to feel the sheets that he sleeps under, but she stays rooted just inside the door.

"So what exactly did you drop by for?" he asks again, pulling her thoughts away from his bed.

She hands him the folder then, shrugging, "Gibbs asked me to bring this by. I did not want to because I knew that your old apartment would have been out of my way. I did not know that you had moved."

"It wasn't a big deal, really, I didn't even tell Abby until I'd been here for almost a month," he tells her, "I just didn't want to make it into something it didn't need to be. Besides, I knew that Abby would want to come and see the place and I wanted to get moved in before I had people over."

She nods, understanding. This is not the Tony that she met the first day that she had arrived at NCIS. This Tony is private and mature and, even though he still teases her, the life in his eyes seems to be diminishing slowly. That thought frightens her.

He leads her back down the stairs and they stand in the entry way for a long moment.

"The house is very beautiful, Tony," she says, "You made a wise choice."

He nods, "Thanks, Ziva."

She looks down at her shoes, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"I should go," she says, playing with her keys, "I will see you at work tomorrow?"

"Of course," he says, opening the door for her.

She steps off of the porch, turning back to him as she does.

"Goodnight, Tony."

"Night, Probie."

She smirks at her new nickname as Tony closes the front door. Even though she cannot see him, she can feel him watching her but she does not turn around. She simply climbs into her car and pulls away from the curb, thinking how she so desperately wanted to stay with Tony and to make his house her home as well.


	2. Home Warming

**Title:** A House Is Not a Home

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Tony has moved and things have changed. Tiva.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of NCIS. But if you want to, I would like some for Christmas.

**Spoilers:** Anything from season 7 so far (up to "Endgame")

**Chapter 2: Home Warming**

The second time she shows up at his door is not unplanned. It is after a week of planning on Abby's part. He isn't positive what brought it on, but Abby had insisted on having a house warming party for him, although he is pretty sure it has something to do with Ziva and her unannounced visit the week before.

He had only agreed to the house warming party because Abby had conned him into, telling him that she would rush any request that he put into her lab and she would plan the party, all he had to do was let her. And he had agreed.

Gibbs was there first, greeting Tony at the door with a bottle of bourbon.

"Boss," Tony says, "Thanks for coming."

"Nice place, DiNozzo."

McGee is next, carrying a stack of CDs.

"I thought you could use some new music," he says, handing the stack to Tony, "Where's Abby?"

Tony gestures to the kitchen and McGee disappears. He has been to Tony's new house more than any of the rest of them so he knows where to go without Tony's direction.

Ziva arrives last, accompanied by Ducky and Palmer, and she is empty handed. He smiles at her, taking her coat, and tells her that the others are in the kitchen already. She moves in that direction, allowing him to take the bottle of scotch from Ducky and the bakery box from Palmer.

"Thank you," he says to both of them, leading them through the living room to where everyone else is gathered. Abby pours wine for everyone, minus Gibbs and Ducky who break into the bottle of scotch, and they move into the dining room. The table has been set with dishes that Tony didn't know he owned and everyone sits around, their conversation light and amused.

They don't wait long for Abby to set dinner on the table, pasta with shrimp and scallops and a creamy garlic butter sauce, and they continue to talk as they eat. The food is gone before they know it and Tony takes small groups around the house, one or two people at a time, giving them some of the details. Palmer, Abby and McGee walk with him, although McGee and Abby have been here before, leaving Ziva with Gibbs and Ducky in the dining room.

"Am I the only one who did not know that Tony had moved?" she asks them when the other three have gone upstairs.

Gibbs nods, "You weren't here, Ziva."

"But why did no one tell me when I returned?" she asks.

"It wasn't our place, dear," Ducky tells her, "It is Anthony's news to share and you had to wait until he was ready."

She stares into her wine glass, "He seems... different."

Gibbs and Ducky share a look.

"Ziva, Tony isn't the same man that you left behind," Gibbs says.

The look of hurt that flashes across her face betrays her and she looks away.

"We thought we'd lost you, dear," Ducky says, "When we'd learned the fate of the Damocles, Anthony took it the hardest. I believe that the fear of losing you has changed him greatly. And you know him well enough to know that he spent months blaming himself."

Ziva remains quiet as Palmer, Abby and McGee reappear. They reclaim their places at the table and Gibbs and Ducky tell Tony that it is their turn for a tour. He makes a show of walking them out of the dining room and into the entryway, laughing as Gibbs makes to smack the back of his head.

"Don't you want to look around Tony's new place, Ziva?"

Palmer's voice startles her and she glances up to find the three of them watching her.

"I have already seen the house," Ziva tells them, "I stopped by last week to drop off a file for Gibbs and Tony was kind enough to show me around."

"It's nice," McGee says, still watching her, "We hadn't been back two weeks when he told me he was looking for a new place. He said something about putting down roots. I'm pretty sure I laughed when he first told me, I didn't think he was serious."

"McGee! That's so mean!" Abby says, smacking him on the arm, "Tony had enough problems after –"

She cuts herself off so abruptly that Ziva turns to look at her. But Abby does not speak again and looks anywhere but at her.

When Ducky and Gibbs return with Tony, everyone begins saying their goodbyes. McGee leaves with Abby, walking her to her car. Tony has to assure her over and over that he does not mind cleaning up, that she did enough by setting everything up and making dinner, before she finally allows McGee to escort her out.

Ducky and Palmer decided wisely not to wait for Ziva when Gibbs offers to drop them both back at the office on his way home. The three men say goodbye to Tony and then to Ziva and before either of them know how, they are standing alone in his living room.

"Would you like me to help you clean up?" Ziva asks, shifting around uncomfortably.

Tony shakes his head, "It's okay, really, I can take care of it. Believe it or not, I've been cleaning my own place for years."

The tone of his voice makes Ziva's heart ache and she is reminded of her first visit here. She can see herself here, with him, so clearly that it worries her. Before she came to America she would never have allowed herself to fantasize about being domestic with anyone. But that thought just makes her realize that Tony is not the only one who was different.

"I brought something for you," she says then, "I will be right back."

And before he can argue she is walking out the front door. She returns a few moments later with a large box in her hands and he has not moved from the living room. She hands him the box, smilingly shyly.

"It is a home warming gift," she says, "Abby advised me that it is customary to bring someone a gift when they purchase a home."

He smiles at her, "It's _house warming, _Ziva. But I think that, in this particular case, either could work. And really, you didn't have to get me anything."

She shakes her head, "I wanted to. Please, open it."

He takes the box to the breakfast bar that creates a definition between the living room and kitchen and sets it down. He opens the box carefully, removing the item inside with practiced hands. It is a turn table, the exact one he'd seen at their crime scene just a few days ago.

"I saw you admiring it at the consignment shop while we were working the McNamara case," she tells him, "And I did not see one when I was here last week. Do you like it?"

The smile he gives her reminds her briefly of the old Tony, the happy, easy-going Tony she knew years ago, and it makes her breath a little deeper.

"It's great," he says, taking it over to one of the bookshelves that flank the fireplace.

It doesn't take long for him to set it up and find an album in the collection that she hadn't noticed before. Slow jazz music seeps from speakers she cannot see and fills the room. She steps up beside him, looking at the record player in front of them. She is glad that the gift she bought for him makes him so happy.

"Thank you," he says then, "Really, you didn't need to get me anything, but I'm glad you did. I had one but it got broken when I moved. I've been meaning to get another but I like it better this way, this way, it means something. Because it came from you."

They don't speak for a long moment and she cannot tell if Tony regrets allowing himself to say those words to her or not. But she is happy that he said that. She is happy that she means something to him.

"I should go," she says then, "I am sure you are tired of having so many people around."

Tony turns to her, shaking his head, "It's nice, actually, it can get lonely. Being in a big empty house isn't all it's cracked up to be."

She thinks for just a moment that he might kiss her (and she would gladly let him) but he turns and moves to the coat closet, finding her jacket and helping her into it.

"Thank you," he says again, "For everything."

"You are welcome, Tony."

He follows her to the door and holds it open for her. This time, as she steps off of the porch, she feels his eyes on her back and knows that he is still standing there, watching. She climbs into her car, waving at him as she starts it and pulls away from the curb, thinking that she has left something significant behind. It may very well be her heart.


	3. Almost

**Title:** A House Is Not a Home

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Tony has moved and things have changed. Tiva.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of NCIS. But if you want to, I would like some for Christmas.

**Spoilers:** Anything from season 7 so far (up to "Endgame")

**Chapter 3: Almost**

The next time she finds herself at his house it is the middle of January and he has one arm slung around her shoulders. There is a metal crutch under his opposite arm and a plaster cast on his left leg. They had been investigating the murder of a Petty officer and their suspect had charged after Tony, tackling him like a football player, knocking his legs out from under him. In the end, after breaking Tony's leg and fracturing his jaw bone, McGee had shot their suspect and he'd died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

She had spent the afternoon at the hospital with Tony on Gibbs' orders. When he'd been cleared by the staff at the emergency room, and given a prescription for a low dose of vicodin, she had been allowed to take him home. Now, they are struggling to make it up the snow covered stairs together.

"Do you have your keys?" she asks, patting down his pockets.

He has been disoriented ever since the first shot of morphine and she was worried that he would pass out in her car and she would have to carry him into his house on her own.

"Can't remember," Tony mutters, not assisting her in the search.

She finds the keys in his inner coat pocket and struggles to unlock the door with her free hand. He is leaning heavily into her side as she pushes the door open and maneuvers them into his house. She leads them to the couch and allows him to sit there as she makes her way into the kitchen. She finds a glass, fills in with water, and swallows it quickly, before refilling the glass and carrying it out to Tony.

He is stretched out on the couch, his head back and eyes closed, and she watches him for a long moment. The incident with their suspect could have been much worse, she thinks, taking in the bruising and swelling on the right side of his face. He is lucky it was merely broken bones. He could just as easily be dead. She shudders at that thought and pushes it from her mind.

"Tony," she says, standing in front of him, "You need to sit up and drink this. The doctor said it was important that you drink water with your medication."

She waits for him to move but when he does not, she sighs. He is breathing heavily and she is well aware that he is not asleep. She leans over him then, getting as close to his face as she can.

"Tony," she says sternly, "You are not sleeping down here. It will not be good for your back or your leg to sleep on this couch and I am not carrying you up those stairs by myself so if you want to live through the night, you will open your eyes."

He opens one eye and smirks at her. She smiles at him, rolling her eyes, and steps back. She gives him some room as he shifts his leg around and uses the arm of the couch to stand. She steps closer, sliding her arm around his waist and feeling his arm weigh heavily around her shoulders again. She sets the glass of water on the small table beside the door, knowing that she will need both of her hands in order to get him up the stairs.

"Are you ready?" she asks, knowing the question is pointless.

Tony nods weakly and walks slowly beside her, keeping the pressure off of his leg as much as he can.

It takes them over twenty minutes to climb the stairs and when they reach the top, Tony sways heavily against her. She tightens her grip on him and leads him to his bedroom. They are both silent as she sits him at the end of the bed and shuffles around the room, turning on lights and pulling back his bedding. When she stops in front of him, he looks up at her with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and she has to remind herself that it is the drugs that make him look at her like that.

The nurses in the emergency room had had to cut his jeans off at the knee on his broken leg in order to check the injury and put the cast on and she now wonders how she is going to get what remained of his pants over the thick cast.

"Can you –" she asks, gesturing to his pants.

Tony nods, his fingers fumbling with his zipper, before lifting his hips and sliding them out from under him. He sways again and Ziva watches him fall back on the bed. He does not handle pain medication well, she reminds herself. She finishes removing his pants, forcing the material over the heavy cast on his one leg, and tosses them to the side. They will have to be thrown away.

She stands from her crouched position and stares at him. He is lying in the middle of his bed, sans pants, in a green button down shirt that is stained with blood. His eyes are closed and she knows that removing his shirt will be easier if he is sitting up.

"Tony, I am going to take your shirt off," she tells him and begins the process, one knee on the bed by his hip.

She makes quick work of the buttons, afraid of what she will feel if she lingers too long. When she is finished and his chest is bare, she pull him up so that he is half sitting and pulls his arms free of the shirt. He sighs as she drops him back on the bed.

She steps into the en suite bathroom that she had not noticed before and tries to rinse the blood from his shirt. It does not come clean and she throws it at the wall, dropping her head as she does. He could just as easily be dead, she reminds herself.

She returns to his room to find that he has already rearranged himself in bed so that he is lying under the covers. She watches him for a long moment, his soft snores confirming that he is finally asleep, and she gathers his ruined clothing and turns out the lights.

She finds herself sitting in his living room, staring at the empty fireplace. Her mind is racing and she cannot stop thinking back to that morning, watching as their suspect attacked Tony. She had been afraid, afraid for his life and afraid, in that moment, for hers as well. Tony had suddenly become a part of her, she was not sure when that had happened, but it was true. After years of training, of being told that her emotions were something she should be able to turn off, she had so simply fallen in love. And she had nearly lost that in a matter of seconds.

Now, as she sits alone in his house, she allows herself to see them here together. She allows herself to image their children, running in from the backyard. She imagines Tony making dinner for them. She imagines herself pregnant and happy and loved and before she can stop herself, she is sobbing on his couch.

She buries her head in her hands and let's herself feel what she had been denying all day. She could have lost Tony today, she could have lost a life she did not yet have, and she wanted that life so badly.

When she has stopped sobbing, when she has her breathing back under control, she takes her phone from her pocket and dials a familiar number.

Gibbs answers on the second ring.

"Yeah?" he says.

Ziva sighs, "Gibbs, it is Ziva."

"Yeah," he says again.

This is typical of Gibbs so she continues.

"I need you to tell me that Tony is okay," she says, her voice thick with tears. She knows that he can hear them.

"Ziva," he says slowly, "Tony is fine. The doctor told you that he would be all right."

She shakes her head even though he cannot see her, "That is not what I mean. I don't-"

But she does not know how to explain what it is that she wants him to tell her and she begins to cry again softly. This is not who she is, she is not weak, she is not emotional, she does not cry.

"Ziva, Tony will be fine," Gibbs tells her, "And you will be fine. And you will be okay together."

His words, she knows, are the closest thing to permission that she will ever hear, and she does not argue. He does not say goodbye before the line goes dead and she closes her eyes again. She is still thinking of Tony and the life that they will have as she drifts off to sleep.


	4. A Home

**Title:** A House Is Not a Home

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Tony has moved and things have changed. Tiva.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of NCIS. But if you want to, I would like some for Christmas.

**Spoilers:** Anything from season 7 so far (up to "Endgame")

**A/N:** I just want to thank everyone for reading this story and also for the awesome reviews. I greatly appreciate it.

**Chapter 4: A Home**

Three months after Tony breaks his leg, Ziva finds herself unexpectedly at his door. She has no reason for coming to see him and she has not been here since the night she brought him home from the hospital. She had made the decision that night that she would not pursue a relationship with Tony, that he would come to her when he was ready if he wanted her.

They have just closed a case involving a dead marine. The case had not been anything out of the ordinary, not something that they had not dealt with before, but it had struck a cord with Ziva. In the course of their investigation they had come across an old acquaintance of their victim and when they had told her that Sergeant Patterson had been killed, she had broken down, surprising both Tony and Ziva. Neither of them had been aware of a romantic relationship between Sergeant Patterson and Michelle Michaels but the heartbreak in her eyes spoke volumes to Ziva. Michelle had been in love with their victim for years but she had never been able to bring herself to admit it to him. And now she would never have the chance.

As Tony had said goodnight at the office before leaving with McGee, Ziva had forced herself to simply say goodbye and watch him go. It wasn't until after the elevator doors shut that she sighed and rested her head in her hands.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Ziva," Gibbs says, startling her.

She does not lift her head to look at him, "And what is it that I am doing?"

"Letting Tony break your heart," he says, "And I'm not going to sit here and watch that happen."

"What about rule number twelve?" she asks, looking him in the eye now, "You are always telling us-"

"Rule number twelve was put in place so you _wouldn't_ get your heart broken, Ziva," he says, "But with you and DiNozzo, it seems to be back firing."

So now she stands in front of his house, hand raised to knock, and she knows what she has to tell him. She does not want to do this anymore, she does not want to play these games with him, she wants him to be hers just as she considers herself his.

She knocks, waiting for nearly five minutes before knocking again, and calling out for him.

"Tony?" she calls.

He doesn't answer and she is tempted to pick the lock on the door. Instead, she knocks again, giving him one last chance to answer before she breaks in.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she hears him yell, and she can tell he is on the stairs, "Geez, guy with a broken leg here, gimme a break."

She waits a few more long minutes before he opens the door for her. He is out of breath and she suddenly feels guilty for making him exert himself.

"Ziva," he says, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

She opens her mouth to say something and closes it again.

He looks at her, worry clouding his eyes, and he opens the door wider, gesturing for her to come inside. She walks past him, going immediately to the couch, and sits down. He follows her, easing himself carefully into the seat beside her.

"Is everything all right?" he asks, eyeing her carefully.

She nods, looking down at her hands, "Do you know the woman we met today? Michelle Michaels?"

"Of course," Tony says, "Why? Did something happen?"

"She was in love the sergeant," Ziva says, her eyes locked on the ring finger of her left hand, "And she never had the chance to tell him. She believes that they were soul mates."

Tony shakes his head, "Ziva, I-"

"Please," she says, so quietly that Tony barely hears her, "Please, do not tell me that you do not believe in soul mates, Tony."

Tony does not continue and she forges on.

"I see myself in her," she says, "In Michelle Michaels. And I do not like what I see. I do not want to lose someone who means so much to me simply because I am afraid."

"But I've never known you to be afraid of anything, Ziva," Tony says.

She looks up at him, hoping that she can see the fear and longing in her eyes, "I am afraid of this."

Her heart is pounding wildly in her chest. She is more afraid of admitting her feels to Tony than she has ever been of anything in her life. She still does not know when she stopped being Mossad and started being human, but she is beginning to like this part of herself.

"When you were injured, I-I did not know what to do," she tells him, "I did not know how to feel. I was worried that I was going to lose you. And I continue to fear that I will lose you, Tony."

Confusion is written clearly on his face and she stands abruptly and starts pacing in front of him.

"Why did you buy this house, Tony?" she asks, "Why such a large house? Why did you buy it after I had gone?"

"I guess I needed something permanent in my life," he tells her, not moving from the couch, "Because the things that I'd thought were permanent were starting to slip away. As for the size of the house, I already told you, when I bought this place, I hoped that I wouldn't be spending my life here alone."

"Why did you wait until I had gone back to Israel before you decided that you did not want to be alone?" she ask, nearly shouting the question at him.

She is angry, frustrated that he could not have figured all of this out sooner, that he did not figure out that she wanted to be here, with him, sooner.

"I didn't wait!" he snaps back, suddenly, "I've been looking at houses for over a year! I was going to –"

He stops himself as he stands and she stops pacing. He is looking at her so fiercly that she takes a step closer to him.

"You were going to what?" she asks.

He shakes his head, "Nothing."

"No, Tony, we are doing this now. I am tired of this, I am tired of stepping circles around this."

"It's _dancing circles_, probie," he says quietly, "And I was going to buy this place months before you left and then I found out about Rivken and I changed my mind."

She flinches at the way he says Michael's name. It is true that she and Tony have been standing at the edge of this relationship for a long time but they had not been together in any way when she and Michael had began their affair. She did not understand why their relationship would stop Tony from buying a home.

"I wanted to buy a house to show you how much I had changed," he explains, "I wanted you to see that I wasn't the same man that you met when you came here. I wanted you to know how serious I was. I was going to buy this house and bring you here and tell you that I love you."

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself and it stops both of their worlds. She had come here to say those words and a part of her had not expected him to return them. She is shocked that he has said them first.

"Tony," she says slowly, "You did not have to buy a house to prove any thing to me."

He closes the distance between them, taking her in his arms as gracefully as he can manage with his broken leg.

"I didn't buy a house, Ziva," he tells her, "I bought you, I bought us, a home."

She smiles at him, feeling tears in her eyes. She had come here for answers. She had come here to tell him how she felt with no expectation that those feelings would be returned but things had not turned out the way that she had planned. They had turned out much better.

She pushes up on her toes and presses a quick kiss onto Tony's waiting lips.

"It is beautiful, Tony," she says.

"I'm glad you approve," he tells her, "But isn't there something you need to tell me?"

She smiles at him again, truly happy for the first time since returning from Africa. Her breathing is coming out in short bursts and even though this is the reason that she came to see him, saying the words aloud has her shaking with nerves.

"I love you," she tells him, "I love you, Tony."

The smile she gets in return reaches his eyes now and she is happy to see some of the light returning there.

"So, since this is also my home," Ziva says, "Would it be safe to assume that I am expected to live here? With you?"

He shrugs, "I wouldn't be opposed to that."

"Good," she says, "Then show me to our room, Tony."


End file.
